Halo: A Escape Home
by Gundrium
Summary: When the last true Defense of Earth fell, Many stories ended on it's surface. This is the story of Epsilon Team, a S-III Squad with one long standing mission: To bolster morale via public victories alongside UNSC Forces. Will it end in on reach too? Read.
1. Chapter 1

Alright. First story I'm cranking out, and with Halo: Anniversary and Halo 4 coming out, I'm liable to get some exposure.

Okay. Laying out some ground rules.

I, in no way, shape, and/ or form own anything that might be remotely construed as being under the ownership of Bungie and/ or 343/Microsoft. I do not own any thing except my Original Creations (Here on referred to as OC), nor am I making money off this venture; and nor do I plan too.

Now that that's out of the way, A Plus an explanation.

This is essentially a 'Stuck in Halo' Story.

BUT DON'T HIT THAT 'Back' BUTTON JUST YET! Let me explain.

But it is so much more then that.

Instead of some simple 'Me + A couple of friends being sucked into the Haloverse by some plot device' style, it's something a bit more permanent.

It's the peoples 'Essence' that is in the story.

Different experiences, different ways of growing up, but each persons 'Soul', what makes them 'them' is retained.

I think it'll make for a more rewarding read.

And so, I present Halo: A Return Home.

-Enjoy,

Gundrium

Prologue:

Planet Reach

Rally point Omega

1955 Hours, August 30th, 2552 (Shortly before the events of the level- 'Lone Wolf'.)

Three Spartans.

She looked at the other two, who were in front of an odd looking falcon. "So you've made up your mind then?" Asked the blue one with the Sniper Rifle.

She simply nodded. No reason to talk, she hadn't most of her career, anyway.

Why start now?

The red and orange one threw up his hands as he secured his shotgun. "What did I tell you?" he asked as the light glinted off his EVA Helm. "I know, Chris." Came the terse reply as the blue armor relaxed slightly, disappointment softening his voice.

To most normal people, even those in the military, the movement would have been slight. Maybe not even noticeable.

But to Her and her senses, he might as well have curled into a ball and started bawling like a newborn.

"Does the term 'Lone Wolf' ring a bell?" 'Chris' said with a 'I-told-you-so' pose. The blue one snapped. like lightning, he pulled the other by his chest plate until there helms were centimeters away. The EOD Helm looked more menacing now. "Look," He snarled, "I said I KNOW. I thought maybe something had changed when she fought with noble. Maybe something did... But..." His speech crumbled to nothingness as he released the taller Spartan. Hearing the disappointment was surprisingly stabbing. She hadn't expected a reaction.

Not that she showed it. She had a reputation, after all. Of course, the Blue one was a odd case. Definitely not your normal Spartan.

The blue one looked at Chris. "Get the bird warmed up, I'll fly us off in a moment." Chris lazily saluted, then made to the Falcon.

The Blue one stuck out his hand, and she grasped it, recognizing the handshake. "Best of luck, and god speed." He said as the wind blew though.

"Mike!" Came a yell from the Falcon, "The Radar is going crazy, we gotta go!" came a yell from the vehicle. 'Mike' turned to the voice and nodded. Then he made for the cockpit of the Falcon, pulled it into the air, and she was alone.

Once again, a lone wolf. Like she always had been. with enemies everywhere and nothing friendly out there but the dust and echoes.

Huh.

Deja Vu.

Alright, you guys know the procedure.

Hit that review button on the bottom of the page and tell me what you think.

I would like to get opinions and reviews before I continue.

-This is Gundrium, Signing out!


	2. Chapter 2: '1' Introductions Edit

UNSC Aegis Fate

Slipspace, En route to The Epsilon Eridani System

1530 Hours, May 13th, 2552

Captain Bates sighed as he watched his ship leave the eternal gray of slipspace. One place he would never be more glad to leave then he was today. At least now his ship wasn't anywhere near as likely to shake itself to pieces. He halfheartedly listened to his XO as he listed the damage, new and old, that the ship had procured.

After a few moments, he waved the man off. that was one thing he didn't need weighing down on his mind at this point. "Tell me later, Scotts. I need to see to our 'guest', and make sure he's ready to go." The Captain chuckled as he exited the room, while The XO simply rolled his eyes.

He walked though the halls, looking at his Crew. What a sorry state they were in. Many of his engineers were slaughtered before the Aegis Fate even left dry dock, caught by plasma mortars while trying to get to the ship. While his cooks had decided to stay during leave in the York system, 3 out of his 4 communications officers had also decided to go land side... He never did figure out what happened to them... So the one that was left was understandably short with Reach's CENTCOM and was run absolutely ragged. Not that Lt. Davidson was the only one. Most of the Crew didn't even notice him walk by, and only a few had the energy left to salute. He only saw one with a smile on her face. And SHE had just gotten out of medical, and was hopped up on good old fashioned morphine. She wasn't going to frown at anything ANYTIME soon.

He had escaped with a skeleton crew. A well fed skeleton crew, but far too small to fully operate and repair the frigate.

And they had all been on hand nearly the entire time.

But now within the safety of Reach, they could rest, get more crew, and get his poor girl patched up. And after patching up the more volatile failures in the _Agis Fate__'s systems_ after she slugged her way out of the Gauntlet around York Beta, they all desperately needed it.

It was about this time he reached a room that he almost felt sorry to enter. The ONI Operative that only went by 'Cutler'.

When the ONI spook had demanded that he gain entrance of the Agis Fate, That had sent off alarm bells in the Captains mind. But the codes he gave paned out. Who was the captain to deny him? At the worst, he's talk the Captains ear off, at best he'd clam himself up in his cabin, and the Crew would never have to deal with him. What occurred couldn't have surprised them more. As they set off, and more of the ship became battered, the Operative was off like hot rod, running here and there, to and fro. Some swore he did things no human should be capable of, like running the entire length of the ship a couple of times over at full steam, reacting to burst pipes and various other damages like he _knew_ they'd happen. In fact, one particularly woozy crew mate suggested that the ONI operative managed to over power one of the Airlocks to get both of them to safety.

Then again, the same crew member had also managed to suffer a mild concussion during the incident and, not much later, was found mumbling about 'pretty birdies' and the like in their bed, so it wasn't likely that there was anything coherent out of his mouth over the last few hours. Though now that he thought about it, Bates hadn't seen the Operative take a breather for nearly the entire time they were in slip space, either. About every 6 hours he'd slip into a mess hall, scarf down a meal or two, nap in a corner for 30 min; then run out again to check on more of the points of the ship.

Then three hours ago, Cutler felt the ship was finally in good enough condition to allow himself to retire to his room.

It would only be natural if he was still asleep.

He was about to knock when he heard a voice filter though the door.

"Come in," it said.

The Captain should have known. This was a ONI operative he was talking about. One that had a surprisingly honorable nature, but a Spook non the less.

Thus Bates wasn't exactly surprised when he entered, only to find Cutler already in his full ONI Dress Uniform. He now positively oozed 'Shadowy', Like a true Spook should. The uniform as crisp as it was when it left whatever facility he came from. He held himself in such a way that suggested that he was eternally bored with whatever he saw, and was pure business, through and through. He even had his hair in keeping with the stereotypical Special Operations Officer, slicked back with gel and everything.

Unfortunately, his under-eyes still bore the signs of many a long night spent toiling alongside the crew to keep this girl 'afloat', and _that_ led to the bloodshot eyes with purple bags underneath. It was obvious to the crew that he had done a lot of work, and they were thankful.

"Lets go give the pelican the co-ordinates so you can get me off your ship." Cutler said, very nonchalant.

"Why aren't we taking you to your destination?" Captain Bates asked as one of his eyebrows started to arc up his forehead.

"Because if anyone more then necessary knew I was on this ship, neither it or _any_ of it's crew would _ever_ be heard from again." Cutler said with a stony face.

And something told Bates that Cutler meant every single word of it. He was a man that had seen all manner of terrors, he knew what Cutler meant, and that put him very much on edge.

As well as he should have been.

Because it was absolutely true.

ONI orbiting Facility, codenamed 'High hat'

Specifically: [Classified] {In orbit over the Visigrad Relay}

0835 Hours, May 22nd, 2552

The EVA Helmet glowered dully in the Dim lighting.

In 'High Hat', every measure had been made to ensure the facility used as little resources as possible. ONI had taken drastic measures to ensure that it didn't have any footprint.

A special waste filtration system that had a high return, allowing large amounts of fully potable water to be re-introduced into the pipes.

The facility also had an outer coating that rendered nearly all forms of sensory detection ineffective.

The satellite was crammed with all kinds of similar technology to erase it's existence from the public eye.

Of course, when a facility stationed almost directly over Visigrad relay with the function of monitoring all communication; especially when said relay had a tendency to broadcast high value information concerning _c__ertain_ Xenobiological Archeology endeavors; it HAD to not exist.

(But I digress, as I seem to be getting off subject.

...

Where was I?

Ah yes, the Spartan _IN_ the facility. Ahem.)

To say he was bored was a bit of a understatement.

He and his squad had been tucked away in this backwater satellite waiting for some new handler after their last one was lost during the mission now known as 'The Backdrop incident'. At the last planet, The S-III team had been dispatched to disable a covenant armor convoy.

It was a trap, naturally.

Epsilon Team was sent to assist a couple of squads of hell jumpers take it out.

That was their jobs.

They assisted UNSC forces with anything they were told to do. Whether it was assisting in sneak attacks, paving the way with the front lines, or even acting as bodyguards for high value 'targets'. They increased morale in the colonies by making sure that there were flesh and blood witnesses to the awesome power of the Spartan Project.

When they made to attack the Convoy to the south, everything went haywire.

The 'Armored Convoy' turned out to be a giant line of wraiths pointed at their general direction, with it's own flanking force of hunters for good measure.

They _knew_. His team and the helljumpers had barely had enough time to pull out to their transportation before the Covenant pounded the ambush site.

That's when the covenant dealt another blow.

The ambush gave a _second_ group of covenant forces to ambush the central command center.

To put it simply, among most of casualties, was Epsilon's ONI Handler.

(I'm getting off topic again...)

The other members of the team were in similar state of boredom as they awaited their next Handler.

They waited for a further 20 minutes before they finally met him.

The team consisted of six Spartans.

One Assault Specialist, one Demolition Specialist, one Reconnaissance Specailist, one Sniper, one Heavy Weapon Specialist, and one Marksman.

Christopher was the Assault Specialist and wore leader with the EVA helmet. He also wore the Gillie chest, UA/ Base Security on the right shoulder, ODST on the left shoulder, and the FA/JPR knees. All in Red (Primary) and Gold (Secondary).

He favored the Shotgun. He had yet to find a more satisfying weapon to fire. He kept a secondary of a DMR.

Laura was the Demolition Specialist and wore the HAZOP Helm, with the Armored chest, GUNGIR Knees, and both shoulders had the HAZOP Armor. All in Green (P) and orange (S).

Unsurprisingly, She preferred the Grenade launcher. Took them down fast, if you knew what you were doing. She kept a secondary of a MA5.

Vernon was the Reconnaissance, and had the Scout Helm, with the Gillie chest, Normal knees, and normal shoulders. All in Green (P&S).

He preferred a Helljumper Special, the Silenced Pistol. Made less noise. When worst came to worst, he'd unleash his MA5.

Jerry was the Sniper and had the ODST Helmet, with the Ammo Chest, FA/JPR knees, and Ammo shoulders. In Purple (P) and Gold (S).

Obviously, He preferred the SR-77 Sniper Rifle. Also made a cool 'Exploding Watermelon' Effect on the right target. Of course, when targets were too close, he'd bring out his Pistol.

William was the Heavy Weapon Specialist and wore the GUNGIR Helmet, with the Armored chest with the added Plate by the side of the head, GUNGIR knees, and a security right shoulder and commando left shoulder. He wore Yellow (P) and Orange (S)

He usually wielded a Rocket Launcher as his primary, but the HWS got his hands on a new prototype specifically for the next mission, A [Citation Needed] A.K.A, the 'Spartan Laser'. He still had his Rocket Launcher (Evelina was jealous), but he was something he usually wasn't.

Excited.

Debora was the Marksman and wore the CQB Helmet, with the Base Chest, Base knees, and a Base left Shoulder with a Commando right shoulder. She chose a simple Double helping of Steel (P&S)

She preferred an old favorite, the DMR. Though, she usually used her trusty knife with a pistol when things got too close. And they often did.

Chris watched as the Operative walked inside. None of his Spartans saw, but he raised an eyebrow.

Cutler walked to the end of the table, and looked at the squad. He eyed the Soldiers, sizing them up like produce.

Then he sat down, and brought out a pair of glasses. Such things were usually rendered obsolete by modern technology, and were considered Antiques. He was one of the few who held (some would say cling) to the old ways.

"I am your new Handler." He stated. "I am Warrant Officer First Class Cutler. No matter your Rank, I AM your superior. You follow MY orders, understand? If you have any questions, I _may_ answer you, but I am not required to by law."

Laura was a bit indignant. She hadn't expected for this new guy to be so... Demanding.

Vernon kept himself stoic. He didn't like to make assumptions.

Jerry cracked a few jokes to himself. As long as this guy wasn't TOO bad, they'd get along fine enough.

William was ready to get on the road already. He had people to save.

Debora was worried. She had a feeling Chris and Cutler were going to butt heads a lot.

Which was true, beyond her comprehension.

ONI orbiting Facility, codenamed 'High hat'

Specifically: [Classified] {In orbit over the Visigrad Relay}

2360 Hours, July 23rd , 2552

Chris and Cutler sat in the officers lounge, which in this (Pardon the pun...) _spartan_ satellite consisted of nothing more then a couple of Lounge chairs facing out a planet-side window (A luxury when you didn't exist...). The Spartan kept nearly all his armor on, except for his helmet, which was on his knee. The two each held a drink. Water, of course. They were both perpetually on duty.

Who had time to get drunk on alcohol when power wet your whistle all the better?

"So, how do you command?" Asked the Armored Soldier.

"I'll tell you what to do, and you'll do it." The other stated. " Of course, I have to ask. How do you follow orders?" The operative asked with a smirk.

The Spartan shrugged. "Depends on how stupid the order is." He said lazily. "The dumber it is, the more likely I am to follow it. Otherwise I'd never listen to my superiors." He said as he looked at the Operative.

They both chuckled as they stared out at Reach.

"How do you think we'll have her?" Christopher asked as he pointed out at the moving mass.

No sooner then the words left his lips, the station bucked as the planet began to turn at an odd angle.

Cutler stiffened as his glasses lit up.

"Less time then we thought." He said as he looked though the his glasses screens, and stared at the Spartan. "Contact your team. Have them meet us in the armory. We just got attacked."


End file.
